


We Don’t Move On, We Move With

by SugawarasKisses



Category: Haikyuu!!, haikyuu
Genre: Angst, M/M, dementai, this is like future iwaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugawarasKisses/pseuds/SugawarasKisses
Summary: They knew this day would come, it’s not like they could stop it. But it’s what Oikawa did after that mattered.Carrying on your lovers legacy is what matters. Learning the reality of life is what matters.For we don’t move on, we move with.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	We Don’t Move On, We Move With

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

Time never learnt to stand still for anyone. 

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

A certain brunette learnt that truth the hard way. With tears cascading down his cheeks every day the clock struck 9:27am.

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

0 Marbles.

_ December 7th, 9:27 am. Broken, heart wrenching sobs echoed through the Oikawa-Iwaizumi household. Begs and pleads were made as the brunette gripped his lover’s hand, giving soft -yet violent- shakes to his lover's body. If there was a lord out there, the brunette -who was begging for his raven haired lover to wake- was begging for them to answer his prayers. Begging for this to be some sick joke. _

_ Truth was. He knew this day was coming. For nine long years, he had been watching the clock tick away. It was only a matter of time before his husband was taken. Time never stood still. Not once. Not on his diagnosis day, nor their wedding day. It couldn’t stand still the night before, on December 6th; the last day he’d ever speak to his lover again. Neither knew that day would be their last, but they also did. Any day could have been their last. Any second could have been the last time they would ever be together.  _

_ Ten years. That’s how long Oikawa T _ _ ōru _ _ got to love Iwaizumi Hajime. Nine year. That’s how long Oikawa T _ _ ōru _ _ got to spend with Iwaizumi Hajime after the day he received the news that changed his life. Eight years. That’s all Oikawa T _ _ ōru _ _ got to be able to call Iwaizumi Hajime his husband. To take the name Oikawa T _ _ ōru _ _. Ten years wasn’t enough. He wanted a lifetime, but Frontotemporal Dementia left nothing but an empty shell at the end of the run. No prize. No medal. Just a broken man who couldn’t tear his eyes away from the lover that slept peacefully at last.  _

_ Frontotemporal Dementia. A disease that develops at a young age. A form of dementia that begins to kill the brain at a younger age than usual. A disease inherited. There was hope it had missed Hajime. That it had skipped him. But the ugly, poisonous claws sunk deep into him, draining every drop of life slowly. So very painfully slow. nine long years, Iwaizumi Hajime suffered for that long. Each and every day, the disease took a little more from his life. There was no cure, just ways to delay the inevitable. Iwaizumi Hajime never wanted to try them; what was the point? He was dying. His dying wish was granted the year after his diagnosis. He asked Oikawa T _ _ ōru _ _ to marry him. If Iwaizumi Hajime was to die, he wanted to die knowing that he was Oikawa’s. _

_ By the end of the painfully beautiful nine years, Iwaizumi Hajime had no memory of what his husband looked like; he could only remember every beautiful moment they spent together. Every gorgeous memory they made in their short time. Oikawa T _ _ ōru _ _ spent every day caring for his sick husband. Each day towards the end, Iwaizumi Hajime would tell his ‘carer’ about a beautiful boy he married. How loving he was. How caring his husband was. He’d tell Oikawa about the times they spent together, with Oikawa staying strong to respond. When he would leave, the tears could never stop.  _

_ On December 7th, 9:27am, Oikawa T _ _ ōru _ _ was forced to say his final goodbye to Iwaizumi Hajime, who was taken at the age of 29. _

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

Time never extended itself for anyone.

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

For a brunette widow, he had learnt this fact the painful way. With not a single beg for more time being answered.

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

17 Marbles. 

_ Grief. Intense Sorrow. It was a feeling Oikawa T _ _ ōru _ _ was consumed by. 17 weeks ago, the brunette widow said his final goodbye. 17 weeks ago, the fresh widow had his world ripped away from him. The cut was still deep, blood still seeping through. No wound like that could heal in a matter of weeks. It could take months, years; for Oikawa T _ _ ōru, it felt as if it could never heal.  _

_ When faced with awkward situations, people tend to try and use the most common phrase or string of words they've heard to comfort those in need. The actions people showed were no different when faced with a grieving person. _

_ “Everything happens for a reason.” _

_ “You’ll move on eventually.” _

_ “He’d want you to move on.” _

_ “You’ll find someone to replace him soon.” _

_ Such insensitive comments. They weren’t meant to be taken so harshly, but to say such things to a man who lost his husband just 17 weeks ago was harsh; painful.  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru didn’t want to move on. How could anyone move on from such heart break, from such misery? People don’t mean for their comments to be so inconsiderate; but, for a fresh widow who lost his reason to breathe,  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru couldn’t help but shut himself away from the world that was no longer his.  _

_ Isolation. Iwaizumi Hajime was faced with isolation for the last 2 years of his life. Dementia had wrapped its deadly vines around the boy, capturing him as its own; breeding and adapting off of him.  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru now placed himself under isolation. He didn’t want to hear the words of ‘condolences’ anymore. No, he wanted to hear the words Iwaizumi Hajime spoke. His Iwaizumi Hajime spoke. The same words that picked him up from his lows, the same words that made him laugh when the two could be happy together; the same words that told  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru he was loved. _

_ Grief. Such an ugly emotion. The way it latched onto its victims like the plague. Grief had no right to make the brunette widow feel so broken, yet it was an outlaw; it did whatever it could to survive. _

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

Time never granted wishes for anyone.

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

The broken, grieving male knew this. He’d wished countless times, with not a single one ever coming true.

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

86 Marbles

_ There were people just like him. They may not have experienced everything he did, but they felt the same emotions. Grief and loss. Widows; A person who’s husband and/or wife has died/passed away.  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru was a widow. He had been a widow 87 weeks. 87 weeks ago he woke up to find his husband, asleep and stone cold. Not a breath escaped his lips. Iwaizumi Hajime had finally found peace, leaving his husband of 8 years to venture the world alone. _

_ Broken and alone, the 30 year old brunette trudged the sleeping streets of Miyagi. The night sky was always more beautiful then the morning. Stars decorated the night sky as the moon took reign. Citizens slept peacefully, as  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru used this time to walk the streets he and Iwaizumi Hajime once walked. The same streets that had witnessed the pure love between the young couple. Such beautiful love, ripped apart; far too early.  _

_ It had been 14 weeks since  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru decided to join a support group for those who have lost a loved one to Dementia. It was no surprise that he was the youngest there. Frontotemporal Dementia was rare, but not uncommon. It took its victims at young ages. It took his husband, who only got 29 years. Iwaizumi Hajime deserved more. He deserved a lifetime. If  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru could, he would’ve traded his own life for his husbands. That’s all he wanted; his husband to be alive and healthy.  _

_ Someone had suggested starting to count marbles and adding one to a jar each week. At first, the idea confused the youngest member of the support group. What could marbles do to help? How were they going to bring back the one person he loved the most? A small orb couldn’t bring back the only person he’d ever loved. But that wasn’t the point of it. The point, as explained by the elderly member, was to remind himself of every week he was able to stay alive. To remember every week he was able to keep the memories of himself and his husband alive.  _

_ So he did. Each sunday, before falling for the sweet calls of slumber, the brunette would add a single marble to the jar. One for each week it had been since he had to admit that the venomous vines had taken his everything from him. 86 weeks ago. Yet it still felt as if it was yesterday. The wound still ran wet, bloody. His love for the deceased soul would never die, similar to how the cut of grief would never heal. Cuts heal and sometimes scar over, whenever this deep cut would decide to heal, the scar would be one that would show much pain. _

_ There were people in the same position he was. People who felt just as broken as he did; even at such an old age. _

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

Time had no desire to be kind.

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

Some days felt worse than others; as a brunette widow was forced to live on. He was to face the harsh backlash of time.

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

156 Marbles.

_ Someone once told  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru to stop going to his husband's grave. To forget about him. They told him to move on, find someone new. They told him to strip himself of his wedding ring. Everything they told him to do, he ignored. _

_ None of them understood the true ill-favoured truths of grief. They were virgins to its touch, to its taste. They were virgins to the way it seeped into the mind, spreading fast. Each command and suggestion they gave, the brunette could do nothing more than ignore them. He could only turn the other cheek, walk away. Go back to his husband’s grave; where he sat weekly. He’d tell him everything he did that week. The brunette would tell his lover everything he saw, he did, he felt. The tears never failed to escape his broken body. The car journey home consisted of broken sobs as he learnt to accept his husband had been gone for 3 years. _

_ 3 long years.  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru had learnt a great deal about grief. The snarky attitude that he embodied as a teenager had been washed away. The way he presented himself as loved and popular was thrown back at him, showing him the truth of just how alone he was. 3 years could teach someone alot. But 3 years can also be painful when spent without the person you promised to have and to hold through sickness and health. Their vowels were ironic. They married because Iwaizumi Hajime was sick, and  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru was in health. They held each other throughout their run, even after his sick husband could no longer remember him. _

  
  


_ They say the most painful thing a human can endure is mental health. But,  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru believed that the most painful thing any human could endure was the harsh reality of grief. No person could get over such horrible feelings so easily. In fact, you never get over grief.  _ _ Oikawa T _ _ ōru learnt that. You don’t move on.  _

_ Some people tell you to stop causing pain to yourself, but is remembering the one you loved, the one you held, the one you watched turn to nothing but a shell, really hurting yourself? Or is it just the way you cope? _

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

Time has never learnt what pain is inflicted on others.

**Tick**

**Tick**

**Tock**

Oikawa T ōru could never wish such pain on even his worst of enemies. No soul should have to feel the heartbreak of death.

**Tick...**

_ It isn’t that we move on with grief. We don't get over it. We can only learn to move with it. To continue our loved ones legacies, to keep their memories alive. We live on to keep the memories of ourselves and them alive. We don’t move on, but we learn to move forward. We learn to continue, even when giving up seems our only option. _


End file.
